Briefing on Naval Ship Classification
Modern warships generally fall into one of two categories, light craft and capital ships. Light craft, as their name imply, are small vessels that rarely have crews larger than two or three. Notable exceptions are corvettes, which can have upwards of fifteen to twenty crewmembers. Besides the mass disparity between light craft and capital ships, the principle difference between the two groups is the weapons systems each can mount. Light craft tend to have fairly low-density plasma weapons whereas capital ships are armed with heavy plasma or beam weaponry.
For several years following the birth of the UNE's spacefaring navy, the largest ships topped out at what is currently considered frigate tonnage. There seemed little reason to build anything larger, especially as frigates seemed to strike an excellent balance. The frigates were economical in that they were the smallest frames that could reasonably mount the newly developed heavy plasma cannons. Those same cannons meant a frigate could easily defeat anything smaller in a one-on-one engagement. Larger ships might have been able to mount more heavy plasma weapons but would have cost more and afforded less flexibility, or so the reasoning went. That reasoning was sorely tested and found wanting with the advent of the beam cannon.
Essentially a highly miniaturized particle accelerator, the beam cannon was one of the major breakthroughs in weapons technology for the interstellar era. Its power requirements were stupendous but its destructive capacity more than made up for it. Able to rip apart frigate sized hulls in a matter of minutes, the tactical advantages of a warship equipped with beam cannons was too much to pass up no matter how much the bean counters might howl. The UNE Navy took the opportunity offered by the new weapon to commission a new class of warships now generally referred to as cruisers.
Large enough to mount sufficient fusion reactors to power multiple beam cannons and heavily armored enough that it could brush aside plasma fire almost contemptuously, cruisers harken back to the battleship of oceanic navies in their power. In a stand-up fight, a cruiser is almost guaranteed to demolish any opponent and survive any fire that may come in response. The initial series of cruisers tended to be the centerpieces of frigate taskforces, acting as command ships, or be dispatched on independent missions due to their durability and power. It was only later that cruisers were organized into distinct squadrons, forming the core of larger fleets. Today, a squadron of cruisers is generally the most forceful way any side can choose to make a point.
The only deployed class of warships that outmass cruisers is the carrier. This class actually came to fruition before the cruiser as the value of a carrier type for light craft was recognized early on in the history of the UNE. Designed to be able to deploy a wing of light craft, carriers had to be massive in scale. At the same time with most of their mass dedicated to supporting light craft, their armament was originally proportionally even lighter than that of frigates. Newer generations of carriers have significantly increased their offensive weapons and the Colonial variant is even armored heavily enough to go toe to toe against a cruiser. Carriers are however not intended to be frontline combatants and usually deploy their light craft from a distance. Any weapons and armor are primarily to deter attempts to attack the carrier, not to provide direct fire support with other capital ships.
Rear Admiral Ricardo Manning
Director of CIN Training
Colonial Independence Navy
Chapter 3: Shadow Cast
The moment her fighter folded back into normal space, its alarms began blaring.
"Contacts," Reynolds said over the radio. "I've got nine boogies vectoring towards us."
"Looks like they brought along some troop transports," Khaldi said, "and a frigate."
"Take out the patrol first and then the transports," Reynolds ordered. "If we're lucky they haven't all boarded the station yet."
With a full squadron at her back, the nine colonial fighters were dead meat. The skirmish was over almost before it began as a wave of missiles smashed into the enemy ranks. A few managed to set off EM pulses but they lasted only moments longer than their less fortunate comrades.
"Reaper, Brigit, Viper, focus on the transports," Reynolds ordered. "We'll cover you."
Two 'rogers' and a click answered her and the trio of fighters shifted behind the rest of the squadron. The others followed Reynolds' charge as they once more slashed into an enemy formation. Reynolds downed her own target with remarkable ease and swung about to face offer another trying to chase her. It quickly fell prey to a burst of plasma and spun away out of control. The enemy never had a chance to try to steady the fighter as another burst of plasma detonated it.
Three icons suddenly raced past Reynolds and she quickly vectored to give chase. Only Adams, McBride, and Saito had been loaded with rocket pods and so it fell upon them to kill the transports, just as it was Reynolds' job to make sure they survived the experience. The enemy screen was in tatters and no one approached to challenge them however and a hurricane of destruction rolled over the transports as the three fighters unloaded their salvos. Reynolds had no idea how many soldiers were actually still onboard but a full transport could hold upwards of an entire battalion and they had just destroyed three outright.
"Now for the fun part," Reynolds muttered.
Conventional wisdom stated that attacking a capital ship, even a mere frigate, with fighters tended to be pointless. Granted fighters mounted heavier weapons than interceptors, but generally only the torpedoes mounted by bombers had any chance of punching through the heavy armor. On the other hand these were colonial frigates and despite expending so many rockets taking out the freighters Adams and the others still had plenty left over for their new target.
"Escorts, target point defenses," Reynolds ordered. "Alpha flight, I want that frigate turned into scrap."
The order was barely finished before Adams rolled and began an attack run on the frigate. Reynolds was right behind, doing her best to discourage the few surviving enemy light craft from trying to chase her wingman. That left Adams free to open up on the frigate and a steady stream of rockets smashed into the rear nacelle. The single flak turret was ripped to shreds and secondary explosions blossomed as Adams' salvo blasted apart the thinly armored compartment. All Colonial frigates shared the same fundamental flaw of a civilian origin in their design or construction and despite their best efforts the CIN had been unable to completely compensate for the various structural weaknesses that plagued the ships. It was a weakness Reynolds and her squadron was more than happy to exploit.
Adams peeled aside before flipping about to make an attack run on the second flak turret. He was a bit too slow however as two missiles smashed into the turret and Reynolds flew over the burning hull before pulling away. Plasma buffeted her ship as other point defense guns zeroed in on her but they too were silenced as the rest of the squadron swarmed the frigate. Wreckage soon dotted the hull marking destroyed gun emplacements and ruptured sections. With its defenses disabled, the fighters had free reign and blasted away at the weak points in the ship's hull.
By the time the marine transport folded in, softly glowing wreckage was all that remained of the CIN capital ship. What was left of Dubois' interceptor squadron was flying escort while Arcadia and Mercury hung further out. Reynolds' squadron moved in to reinforce the interceptors, a wise decision as new contacts started appearing.
"Incoming," Khaldi reported. "Detecting multiple heavies making runs for the transport."
"Our weapons won't be enough to discourage them," Dubois pointed out.
"Noted," Reynolds said a bit coldly. "207, move in and welcome them appropriately."
The fighters broke off into pairs and charged their new targets. Colonial heavy fighters were remarkably tough for their size and from a purely theoretical comparison were more than a match for the standard UNE fighter. As always however the CIN's greatest constraint was in finding the personnel to man all of its ships. Though all heavy fighter pilots were supposed to be skilled veterans the difference between victory and death was often a mere knife's edge, an edge that spilled blood with ready ease.
With only rockets in his loadout, Adams was not able to dish out enough damage to guarantee solid kills of the heavies so he contented himself to blowing away their shields and peppering their hulls with a few bursts of plasma. The coup de grace was delivered by Reynolds as her missiles smashed into the targets softened up by her wingman. This combination was repeated several times over by the rest of the squadron as they slaughtered the CIN attack force. None made it close enough to engage the interceptors, much less threaten the transport.
"Area secure," Reynolds reported.
"Understood," McCallum replied. "Keep watch while the boarding team secures the station.
"Yes sir."
The troop transport arrived at the station unmolested and Reynolds listened in on the reports from the marine commander. Not surprisingly, the marines were running into heavy resistance. Reynolds' attention was however soon diverted as new contacts appeared on the sensors.
"Incoming Cindy tin cans," Khaldi said. "Vector confirmed, they're making attack runs on the Arcadia."
"Focus on any torpedoes," Reynolds ordered. "Alpha flight, with me."
The four fighters peeled away from the shell protecting Arcadia and raced forth to meet the incoming corvettes.
"Cycle through, formation beta-5."
Acknowledgements were followed by Saito taking the lead with Adams right behind. The rockets mounted by the trio were the best option for taking down corvettes but their unguided nature meant they would need to be fired from close range to guarantee hits. Getting that close however was not an easy proposition thanks to a corvette's point defenses and missiles. UNE pilots had however developed a simple tactic for dealing with these challenges, as the other three pilots were now demonstrating.
Reynolds threw her in ship into the screen of enemy fighters escorting their target, blowing one apart before pulling away. By now Adams' course had actually diverged from merely tailing Saito, who was making an attack run on the larger ship. Her rockets smashed into the hull, blowing apart the flak turret and breaching the armor but not quite managing to destroy the target. That job fell to Adams who began his own run just as Saito was chased off by a missile launched from the corvette. Slipping through the corvette's defensive perimeter, Adams unloaded on the ship and was rewarded with a bright ball of fire.
Saito was already moving on the second corvette and this time McBride was acting as the backup. Reynolds maneuvered to tail Saito, picking off one of the escorts that tried to derail the other woman's attack. Another enemy exploded to the side and Reynolds mentally noted Adams' signal approaching from that vector. With the way clear, Saito launched another volley, crippling the corvette for McBride to finish the job.
"Pods dry," Saito reported.
"Understood. Reaper, take point."
A click and Adams was off, charging in. Instead of hitting and running however, he reversed acceleration as his fighter closed in on the corvette and sent a hail of rockets at the ship. The extra time he spent flying relative to the corvette was more than enough to finish killing it, even if he was exposing himself recklessly to return fire.
"Reaper, stick with the formation," Reynolds snapped.
We need to kill them faster, came the response.
Looking at the tactical display, Reynolds cursed. A steady stream of torpedoes had been raining down on Arcadia and though the rest of her squadron was putting on a valiant effort, they were going to be overwhelmed.
"Dubois, get your interceptors back to Arcadia!" Reynolds ordered.
"What about the transport?"
"It'll keep, get moving now!"
"Yes ma'am," Dubois replied stiffly.
"Alright Reaper, you're with me. Viper, cover Brigit. We're splitting up."
"Yes ma'am."
"Ma'am."
Click.
With Adams tailing her once more, Reynolds threw herself at the third corvette.
"I'll draw its fire, take it out as fast as you can."
Without waiting for a response, Reynolds opened up on the corvette. Her plasma splashed off the hull, scorching it here and there but not managing any meaningful penetration or damage. The flak turret swung around to track her but Reynolds was already diving to get out of its field of fire. Swinging around, Reynolds ignored the corvette and pounced on another fighter escort. She just finished chewing through it when Adams came about with the fiery wreck of his own target drifting behind.
Almost out of rockets.
"Then let's make them count."
Their last target was twisting about to avoid giving Adams an easy shot even as it defiantly spewed flak. Reynolds again took the lead and this time her own approach was mostly unmolested, the corvette commander having wised up to the tactic. It was a reasonable, albeit predictable reaction, and because it was predictable it was also easily countered. While Reynolds did not mount the more destructive rockets, she still had plenty of missiles left and began letting them off as quickly as they would lock on.
Suddenly finding itself bombarded by the first attacker, the corvette rolled to bring its guns to bear against Reynolds just as Adams began his own run. A brief flurry of rockets smashed into the corvette as Adams expended the rest of his payload and combined with the damage already inflicted by his squadron leader, the corvette succumbed and broke apart.
With their charges destroyed, the CIN fighters pulled away and began folding out. Reynolds did not bother giving chase, instead turning towards the station.
"Area secure," she reported.
"Understood," McCallum said. "Control, do you have everything loaded? I'm not leaving anything behind for the Colonials."
"Almost captain," a feminine and crisp voice responded. "There is one more item however. I have a ship. I need a pilot."
"Flight team leader Reynolds is the best we have," McCallum said.
Reynolds was certainly not going to contest the captain's claim but apparently Control did not completely agree.
"I've reviewed the records of your pilots. I want Adams."
A spike of alarm jolted through Reynolds and she glanced over at her wingman floating to the side.
"Alright Adams, you heard her," McCallum said. "Dock with the station and take possession of the ship."
A click and Adams turned towards the station.
"Sir," Reynolds said, opening a private channel to McCallum. "What's going on? And who is this Control?"
"Control is a predictive tactics AI," McCallum replied. "If we're to have any chance of succeeding against the Cindies, we're going to need her."
"And this ship?"
"No idea unfortunately," McCallum said. "Most of Thule's projects are classified."
"I see sir," Reynolds said, her unease growing.
If someone in her squad was going to bite the bullet on some new, untested ship, she really would have preferred it be her. Reynolds knew she was good, as good as if not better than Adams. Yet this AI chose him instead for some reason. Until she knew what that reason was, this whole thing would continue eating at her.
"Sir, I'm going to have my squadron dock and rearm while we have the time," Reynolds reported to McCallum.
"Understood," McCallum replied.
"Alright squad, we're going to rotate half and half. Brigit, Viper, you'll stick with rockets in case the Cindies decide to spring more corvettes, or god help us, a frigate on us."
"If they'd be so kind to only sic a frigate on us, I'll count my blessings," McBride said.
"Oh no you didn't Brigit," another pilot chimed in. "You did not just jinx us with a cruiser."
"Hey, at least I didn't say what they could send," McBride protested.
"No, but you were probably thinking about a carrier instead," yet another pilot quipped.
"Save the chatter for after we have full loads," Reynolds interrupted. "And if the Cindies really did send a cruiser all the way out here, then we should thank them properly for the compliment with Kern's boys and girls."
"You're no fun LT," McBride said.
"That's Lieutenant Commander to you," Reynolds replied with a grin. "Now get to it."
To Reynolds' surprise, Adams still had not launched from Thule when she herself had finished cycling through. She was about to try contacting Thule when a craft unlike any she had ever seen emerged from the station. The ship was big, at least the size of a bomber but moving with a speed and grace that easily matched her own fighter.
"What the hell is that," Reynolds muttered to herself.
It also looked clunky with a pair of pylons attached to the underside of what was already a rather fat core. Most light craft classes were at least somewhat aerodynamic for the rare instances where they needed to fly in-atmosphere but this thing was obviously never intended for such an eventuality. When Adams maneuvered the craft about and opened up on the wreckages of the corvettes the grace with which it flew made it quite clear despite the somewhat lumpy look, it was designed to fly and fight in space. As her wingman continued cleaning up the trash however, Reynolds frowned. They obviously had whatever they came to Thule for, so why was the taskforce hanging about. Her confusion only grew as suddenly the Mercury lit its engines and vectored away from the Arcadia.
"Reynolds," McCallum suddenly called over the radio.
"Yes sir?"
"Mercury is being detached for another mission but we won't be leaving just yet," the captain said. "Control has some sort of plan that requires us to stay put, but the Cindies are almost certainly going to be back in force. I need you and your squadrons to hold the line while we wait."
It looked like her decision to cycle the squadron was turning out to be prophetic.
"Did the AI even explain what we're waiting for sir?" Reynolds found herself asking.
"Not entirely, but assuming her self-preservation subroutines are still working correctly, she's not trying to hang us out to dry considering she's onboard Arcadia now."
"I hope so sir."
"You and me both. McCallum out."
"Lovely," Reynolds muttered before switching to the squadron channel. "Alright boys and girls, it seems we'll be staying put for a bit. The Cindies know we're here and they're almost certain to want some payback. But so do we, and let's make it clear we want it more."
As she finished passing on the new orders, Reynolds maneuvered her own fighter to meet up with Adams.
"How's the ship?" she asked.
Weird as all hell, came the text response. There's some strange flight mode that Control's been trying to explain to me but I haven't quite figured-
The text abruptly ended as alarms blared.
"New contacts!" Khaldi reported. "Sensors make it out to be four tin cans and, two frigates!"
Reynolds cursed. "Bloody hell, alpha flight, we're sweeping the tin cans. Everyone else, defensive perimeter around the Arcadia. Do not let any torpedoes through! Captain, I think we're going to need Kern and his bombers."
"About what I was thinking," McCallum replied. "But they're not going to make any successful runs without some escorts."
"Once we take down the corvettes, me and Reaper'll take care of that."
"Understood. Good luck."
"Thanks," Reynolds muttered. "We're gonna need it."
The four fighters charged forth with Adams and Reynolds tearing through the enemy screen with little effort. McBride and Saito were right behind, swatting aside the torpedoes just launched by the incoming corvettes. Adams was already making a run on a tin can, pounding it with rockets before he blew past. Saito followed to take advantage of his diversion while McBride watched her back. Reynolds in turn cleared the way for Adams' second run, drawing away the pair of fighters hovering protectively over their charge. Their effort was for naught however as Adams and then McBride pounded the second corvette into scrap.
With two corvettes down, the survivors were bunching together closer to try to offer each other more support. The engagement degenerated into a series of dogfights as the surviving escorts tried to cut Reynolds' flight down with sheer numbers. The effort was for naught however as the UNE fighters slashed through with almost appalling ease. The remaining corvettes did not last much longer as Reynolds' flight repeated their previous runs with equal success. The surviving Colonial fighters made a dash for their frigates and Reynolds let them go. There were more important things to worry about after all.
"Arcadia, we're on our way back," Reynolds said. "Tin cans have been scrapped."
"We could use the help Angel," Khaldi said. "The frigates are trying to overwhelm Arcadia with torpedoes and we can't get close enough to knock out their plasma turrets."
"Alright flight, we're blowing through from behind them. Unload on the turrets if possible, but we need to get between them and Arcadia."
The four split into pairs once more and rushed straight into the hornet's nest. The enemy fighters seemed almost taken aback by the sudden challenge but managed to muster a response. Reynolds barely had time to lock on one missile before she was past the frigate and spinning about to evade its flak. Adams seemed to have done a bit better as a series of explosions rocked the frigate's neck, but the plasma cannon continued to spit fire at the carrier.
"Damn," Reynolds muttered. "Brigit, Viper, status?"
"Think we knocked it out ma'am, but Viper's shot up pretty badly," McBride replied.
"There's no way she can land in this mess," Reynolds said. "Viper, hang back by Arcadia. Keep watch but don't do anything stupid."
"Acknowledged ma'am," Saito said as her fighter limped back to the carrier.
"Reaper, priority is torpedo-oh shit!"
Before Reynolds could even finish her orders, eight more torpedoes came roaring toward Arcadia. This time they were flanked by half a dozen enemy fighters, making it highly doubtful they would down all of the torpedoes before they reached the carrier. That however did not mean they would not try.
"Alright Reaper, back into the fire."
Wait
Reynolds blinked. "What? Wait what?"
Think I figured it out
Before Reynolds could press for further explanation, Adams dashed forth and placed himself in front of the oncoming wave. Suddenly, the ship seemed to unfold as the pylons extended out. Reynolds was almost certainly she was hallucinating as suddenly a humanoid form appeared in place of Adams' large and bulky fighter. The next moment, Reynolds knew she was hallucinating as over two dozen missiles erupted from the craft and raced out to meet the torpedoes and fighters. All of the torpedoes disappeared in a flash and at least two thirds of the escorting fighters died with them. The survivors were all damaged, some so badly Reynolds would not be surprised if their systems overloaded spontaneously in the next few seconds. But that hardly mattered. What mattered was Adams had by himself just swatted aside a dozen incoming targets in a single instant. The ship folded back into its compact form and Adams shot forth, already working on finishing off the few weakened enemy fighters lingering about.
Reynolds did not know how long she simply flew about, numbed by the sudden destruction. Reality however quickly broke her trance as her shields flared red. Throwing her fighter about, Reynolds locked onto her pursuer and nailed it with a missile. Turning back to the larger battle, Reynolds bore witness to the aftershocks of Adams' actions.
The Colonial forces were even more taken aback by Adams' onslaught and seemed to stagger even as Reynolds' squadron pressed the sudden reversal. Soon however more and more Colonial fighters dove in, almost all of them charging for Adams. That turned out to be a fatal mistake however as Adams transformed again, blowing apart over half of his pursuers with another salvo of those incredible missiles.
Little help with torpedoes please.
The call immediately saw several of his squad mates shifting their attention to another incoming salvo. Even in all the chaos the frigates had not ceased their bombardment and with his own preoccupations Adams had been forced out of position. With the space cleared of so many enemies however, the rest of the squadron easily cut through the torpedoes.
Just as Reynolds began thinking they might make it, alarms sounded again as the sensors detected new fold signatures.
"Multiple incoming! Wait, IFF confirmed! Two UNE cruisers and a frigate!"
Reynolds felt her heart almost jump out of her chest as three large friendlies appeared on the plot. They immediately began unloading on the frigates and the beam weaponry on the cruisers easily sliced through the much thinner armor of the Colonial warships.
"Hold position," Reynolds ordered. "Keep the enemy off Arcadia."
The wisdom of her order was soon verified as the frigates spat out another salvo of torpedoes despite buckling under the cruiser bombardment. One exploded mere moments later and the other would not outlive it for long, but Reynolds' concern was on their last gasp attempt on her carrier.
That concern was soon shifted as Adams transformed again, a beacon of fold energy spitting fire as he blew apart the torpedoes. As the signature faded however, he was suddenly on the receiving end as missiles and plasma rained down upon him. It seemed as if almost every surviving Colonial fighter had set their sights on him, trying so far vainly to destroy this miracle craft that had bloodied them so. Adams did his best but under such crossfire his ship was taking hits.
"Hold on Reaper," Reynolds said. "We're coming in!"
So preoccupied, the Colonial fighters were completely exposed as the squadron plowed through. Ships blew apart left and right but still Adams was bombarded. Status readouts from his ship was showing more and more damage and Reynolds threw herself almost recklessly into the fray, crashing into an enemy ship and depleting her own shields even as her victim was smashed apart.
Suddenly another fighter appeared beside Adam and unleashed a torrent of rockets. The onslaught caught several Colonial ships unprepared and more than a handful careened away. Others responded by shifting their wrath to this newcomer and poured fire upon her. A second later, a signal dropped from Reynolds' HUD.
"Viper!"
The cry came far too late but Reynolds could not help herself. A fit of rage seized upon her and as if channeling that anger, Adams' fighter flared once more. In the next instant, another dozen Colonial fighters blossomed into fireballs. None burned bright enough to match the fury for Saito's death.
End of Chapter 3
There is a fine line between a character death that is gratuitous and one that is impactful. Sato's was probably too blatant to be the latter, though I think I had gotten good enough back when I wrote this that it was not really the former. It was all very much a learning experience, as indicated by the still somewhat sparse expansion of events. In my later works I was capable of going into much more depth regarding the behind the scenes bits that we didn't get to see in canon. Here, it still mostly tracks alongside the actual missions one played.